Love, Jack Love, Rose
by EverAfter89
Summary: 10 years after the sinking, Jack contacts Rose and they keep in contact though letters. This is a collections of the letters they write to each other. R
1. 1 Love, Jack

Dear Rose,

I don't know how to begin this letter but I suppose I should start with an explanation. I thought you died on the Titanic and I assume you thought the same about me. I don't really remember what happened. I just remember listening to you singing. Then there was darkness and coldness. I opened my eyes and I was underwater. I swam to the surface but you were nowhere near. I tried looking for you, but I guess I passed out again while clinging to a deck chair. The next thing I knew, I was in a bed and being told by the captain of the Californian that I was a survivor of Titanic and they'd found me amongst the debris. He showed me a survivor list and you weren't on it. I mourned you, I wept for you, and my heart broke over your death. The captain advised me not to tell anyone I was a survivor because I would just be bombarded by the press. So I wasn't on the survivor list. Then he gave me a job on his ship, which is where I have been living and working for the past 10 years.

A few months ago, as I'm sure you're aware, it was the 10th anniversary of the sinking. The 10th anniversary of your supposed death. And to you, the anniversary of my death as well. We were docked for a while and when I went to buy the news paper, it turned out to be a special edition in honor of Titanic. There were survivor lists deep inside it and I casually checked to see if my name had ever been put on it in the last 10 years. I spotted my last name—not my first. The name "Rose" was in its place. With a fast beating heart, I contacted the people of the White Star Line and found out that a Rose Dawson never boarded the ship. I knew it was you. I knew you were safe and alive.

It took me 2 months to work up the nerve to contact you, once I tracked you down. I don't know what to say to you now. Part of me—a big part of me—hopes that you kept your promise to me and you went on with your life. But a smaller part is praying that you didn't. Because, dear Rose, you may not remember much about me, but there hasn't been and will never be a day when I won't think of you and I will always want you back in my life.

I guess you could say that I went on with my life too. I used to be a wreck. Right after you 'died' I mean. I cried and felt so empty inside. I don't cry anymore. But I still feel empty. Because even though I went on with my life, it has still been 10 years since I ever really looked at another girl. I just didn't want to.

If you don't want to write me back, you don't have to. I just thought you should know that we were both wrong. I'm alive and healthy. I'm no longer a street rat. I'm the 2nd commanding officer on the Californian. I make good wages and have some good friends. But I don't, and most likely never will, have you. That's okay. If you have kept your promise to me, then that's okay. That's _good_. At least now I can sleep easy knowing that you didn't die because of me.

I hope you got this letter. And I will always love you.

Love,

Jack Dawson.


	2. 2 Love, Rose

Dear Jack,

I can't believe it's really you. Alive? All this time? It doesn't make any sense. Jack, I nearly had a heart attack when I got your letter. I nearly fainted. My God. You're alive.

There are not sufficient words in the English dictionary to express how unbelievably happy and relieved I am that you are alive. But there was something in your letter that was incorrect. You said that when I was…dead…I had died because of you. That's not true! You saved me! In every possible way! You saved me from Cal, from making the two biggest mistakes of my life (marriage and suicide), multiple times from dying during the sinking, and from never finding true love. Jack, I love you too. I have thought of you every day these past 10 years. Every single day. And I will _always _love you.

Before I go on, there's something I have to tell you. I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm married. And even though you wouldn't let me, I would leave him for you. But I can't. I have children. Margaret is almost 8 and James is 4. My husband's name is Tom. Tom Calvert. We've been married more than 8 years. I'm not saying this to pacify you. I don't love him nearly as much as I loved…love you. Yes, I love him. But I'm not _in _love with him.

Tom loves our kids. The kids that should be yours. He's crazy about them. I can't take them away from him and I can't leave them either.

When I got your letter, I spent they day cursing me, God, Tom, and fate for tearing us apart. We could have had such as life together. I don't know how I'm going to go on with the rest of my life knowing that the option of true crazy love is within my grasp.

This must hurt you so much. I'm so, so, sorry, Jack.

My life is pretty good, I suppose. We live in a 3 bedroom house. Modest but very nice. Tom is a writer. He has written two books and works for the newspaper. Margaret is so smart. James is too, though it's hard for a 4 year old to show his brilliance. But I am rather unhappy. Not because Tom treats me badly. It's because I miss you. I know what you mean. I feel empty inside, too. Like there's a big black hole right where my heart should be.

I've never spoken of you to my husband. He doesn't even know I was on Titanic. He doesn't know about Cal, or mother, or that I was rich. And he doesn't know about you. I couldn't speak of you. Not to anyone. It hurt too much. Every time I said your name, I'd burst into tears. I haven't cried for you in a while, either. But now, as I write this letter, tears stream down my face. I miss you so much! And I love you forever. Please write back to me. I'm so sorry that we can't be together.

Love,

Rose.


End file.
